Not Alright
by J.Solo
Summary: Rating is for language. Jake lost Cassie forever, and here you get to see some parting moments.**read and review**


Not All Right

Title:Not All right

Notes: This is after the war ended. No one's a Controller, and they're all in their twenties. Has cussing, not a lot. And the Lea mentioned is Marco's girlfriend; she has a big part in a later story. (That's the plan, tell people what's to come in hopes that they will keep reading.) And, just to note- I wrote this before #54, so anything that clashes with that book... well, just deal.

Oh, and I don't own Animorphs, Scholastic does. "Tears In Heaven" is property of Eric Clapton's label. I don't claim to have come up with any of these characters but Lea.

_I must be strong_

_And carry on_

Cause I know I don't belong 

_Here in Heaven_

- Tears In Heaven, by Eric Clapton

I looked at Cassie. She was always so beautiful. I loved her more than anything- I guess I still do love her. I hope she loved me too, but I don't know. I had lost every chance to talk to her again.

I whispered goodbye to her, and took out a necklace from my pocket. I put it in her hands, and hoped she would like it. It was a silver chain with a ring. I hoped she liked it; it was plain, but Cassie wasn't really all for that fancy stuff. I just wanted her to remember how much I love her.

Everyone was watching me now. I stepped back from the casket, and then I walked away, looking at the floor. I almost ran into Marco. He looked like he wanted to talk to me.

"Hey Jake. Are you okay?" Marco asked, arms crossed over his chest. He was trying not to show that he thought he knew how I felt. Marco would never know how I feel; he had Lea, and it wasn't fair. Tobias had Rachel, and will for a long time. 

No, I was _not_ all right.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it was Cassie. It's hard." I let my voice trail. I felt shaky. _ God, not in front of all these people_. Her family, friends, friends of her family. Marco, Rachel, Tobias, Ax. I pushed my hair back.

Marco looked me in the eyes, and then firmly said, "Liar. I've known you since we were in diapers. You expect me to believe that bull? Let's go outside."

We walked out of the funeral home. It was somewhat dark inside, but outside it was beautiful. Spring was here, and you could tell. It was warm, and flowers were blooming. It made me feel guilty; Cassie would have loved to be outside right now, but she had to miss it. It wasn't fair.

"Jake, are you really okay?"

"You know the answer, Marco. I'm _not_ okay. Cassie's dead. It's not fair. She's twenty-two! She was in college! It's not FAIR!" I yelled. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"I knew you weren't alright. I wanted to hear you say it. You can't just pretend to be okay. It's common knowledge, first step is admitting the problem. I know you're depressed." Marco sighed. "Tom told me about the incident with the pills."

"Tom told you what?! Damn, you weren't supposed to know! No one else should haveknown!" I was pissed. I had my stomach pumped two days ago; no one else was told. My parents never found out. I was staying in a hotel with Tom, my brother. He found me, laid across the floor looking like crap. There was half a bottle of sleeping pills and aspirin next to me. He was trying to make me go get help afterwards; no way in hell was I going to go to a shrink.

"It's me, Marco. You've known me for how long? Tom knows you might listen to me. He told me because he wanted me to help you."

"You can't help! You're living your happy fucking life with Lea, and I am here with no one. No one! Do you get that? Alone. By. My. Self. Cassie was all I am here for. Now she's gone! I might as well go with her!" I began to cry. It was too much. I had so much to say to Cassie and she left me.

"Come on, Jake. It's okay." Marco hugged me, and I cried. He was my best friend. There for me when I couldn't ask Cassie out because I was nervous. When I fought with Cassie for the first time. When I bought the engagement ring. Now, he was here for me when I gave her the ring. I never got the chance to ask.

"_Shhhh_, Jake. It'll be okay soon."

I stepped back and wiped my eyes. I knew I looked bad.

"I feel like shit," I said.

"You look like it, too," Marco replied. I half-smiled. He didn't mean it; he was always joking. It made me feel better.

I just looked at the ground for a minute, the said, "It won't be okay."

"That's why we're all human. It never stops hurting; you just deal with it eventually."

"Good advice," was all I could think of.

"I know; Lea had said that to me a while back."

We both just looked around for a few minutes. I thought about that gaping hole that Cassie had dug out of me. When they say you can't take anything with you after this life, they lied. You can take a part of someone. 

"Uh, Marco? No one in there knows this happened."

"Sure. I won't tell. If you need some help, call me, okay? I'll listen."

"Yeah. I will." 

We both walked back in the funeral home, silent. The service was about to start. I sat in the pew next to my mom. Cassie's family and mine had been close. For them it was like losing a daughter. The service was all right; her parents said some words. A girl who had been Cassie's friend in high school sang; the song was "Amazing Grace." It was hard to hold in tears then.

Afterward I went to the hotel. I lay down and did nothing. I didn't sleep, just thought. I remembered meeting Cassie, in third grade. We were in the same class. We were partners for growing plants; Marco had been in another class that year and I was in between believing in cooties and thinking girls were cool. She was nice then. She loved growing the plants. I remembered sixth grade, when we had social studies together. She had done a stellar report on Egyptians and cats. Seventh grade was when we joined the war. Junior year was when it all ended. Cassie had seemed like the had just dropped a heavy weight. It had been the happiest I'd ever seen her. We had a great senior year, partying and just being normal. Then we went off to college to masquerade as adults. I went to NYU. Cassie went to UCLA. We kept in touch, mostly by e-mail. Two weeks from now we were going to come home and get together. I was going to ask her to marry me. We were going to live a perfect life, two kids, nice house, and good jobs. Then we would retire and live happily.

Ever had a period in your life you just block out? I guess I had one for a while after the funeral. I grunted a lot, didn't make an attempt at human communication. My grades slipped a letter. One professor became rather upset when I called him a colorful name. Rachel got mad when I called her an equally colorful name when she called to ask what's up and to ask how school was.

About a month after the funeral, I was chilling in my apartment. I was supposed to be doing part of a term paper. A term paper to make up for one that I had supposedly had deleted off my hard drive by an electrical storm. I had never done the first one, but the professor that assigned this project wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. I turned up the music I was listening to, then the phone rang. By the third ring I figured it would be a kind gesture to answer.

"Huh?" I answered. I sounded rather annoyed.

"Hey, Jake. What's up?" Marco was attempting to be happy.

"Ugh," I replied. Cavemen had better articulation.

"Oh. You alright?" He dropped the fake happiness. Judging by the sound of his voice, he wasn't calling to say hi. He was going to give me a lecture.

"I don't know." I was preparing myself to tune him out. I had enough lectures during class, now he wanted to tell me how to think and what to do?

"Jake."

"What?" I asked. I sounded like I had a male version of PMS.

"Stop acting like you're a Cro-Magnon man and apologize to Rachel."

"Why?"

"Rachel called me cause she was debating over flying down to kill you personally or just hiring someone in the area. When do you get off calling your cousin something like that? I know your parents. They taught you better; usually you have manners better than that."

"I'm sorry. I just don't feel great."

"Cassie?" Marco hit dead on. 

"Yeah."

"You miss her."

"Duh. Why else should I be pissed?" I sighed. 

"Jake, we all miss her. Rachel, me, Tobias, Ax, everyone's parents. I don't know who _doesn't_ miss her. Just deal. Do something, I don't know what. Write, draw- never mind, I've seen your version of art. I don't give a crap. Get whatever this is out of your system.

The rest of that phone call was repetitive. A week later I did as I was told by Tom- I actually went to this group. I saw a flyer in the common room; they were all people who were dealing with the death of someone close. It wasn't just for college students, but they wanted to include us. The group helped some. Shawn, the guy who organized the group, was pretty nice.

A month after that, I realized everything Marco had said was true. It never stopped hurting, you just deal.

Note: **sniffle** I don't like myself for doing that. But I had to. I polished it a little, but I may look through another time and realize that I don't like it. Review, please. If you don't I will cry, and you don't want to see that.


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